


Ode to a 6,000 Ft Fire Squid

by BernRul



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Jason gives surprisingly good advice, Missing Scene, but could be read as platonic, hellstrop is you squint, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 22:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BernRul/pseuds/BernRul
Summary: Jason has a lot of questions on the way to the Bad Place. Michael does his best not to strangle his friend.





	Ode to a 6,000 Ft Fire Squid

**Author's Note:**

> I felt so bad for poor insecure Michael after episode 4, so this is my way of addressing that. The Michael/Eleanor relationship could be interpreted as romantic or platonic depending on your preferences.

"Yo, how much longer?" Jason pants. "My arms are getting sore."

"Jason, we are literally going to hell," Michael says, struggling to keep the irritation out of his voice. Jason means well. He's just worried about Janet. And he's the only friend who's never doubted Michael (he still can't get over the look of doubt in Eleanor's eyes. That she, of all people, would doubt him).

"But can't we, like, take a magic elevator or something? I thought hell was suppose to be down?"

"That's not how it works."

"Aw, dip."

It's only Michael, Jason, and poor goopy Glenn on this empty stretch of railway. As much as he loves Jason, the kid's not his first pick for Bad Place infultrating companion. That would be Eleanor or Janet. Janet for her steadfast knowledge, Eleanor for her emotional support. Well, Eleanor used to be his emotional support. Now he's not sure any more. 

Michael doesn't have a heart, but if he did, it'd be beating like crazy. The last time he was in the Bad Place, he nearly destroyed himself. Willingly, too. He remembers Eleanor, standing in the blue glow, the fear and confusion such a strange look on his one time foe's face. 

How could he be so afraid of the place he'd once called home? Maybe because it never felt like home to begin with.

"Oh, dip, you know waht I just realized?" Jason says with all the subtlty of a Molotov cocktail. "We'd get there a lot faster if there was someone who was, like, 6,000 feet tall with tentacles."

Michael sighs. "Jason, buddy, for the last time, I'm not taking off the skin suit."

"Come on, Mike! It would be the dopest thing I've ever seen, and I once saw a gator on a jetski."

He regrets ever telling them about his true form. From the moment the humans became his friends, he vowed to never, ever tell them. That was the Old Michael, the Demon Michael (never mind that he technically _was_ still a demon. That was one of the 1,785,919 things he tried not to think about). New, Honorary Human Michael had nothing to do with that, except that maybe his skin suit was a little warmer to the touch than the average human's.

But Eleanor, fiesty little thing that she was, hadn't given him a choice. When she barged into his room, demanding he take off his skin suit, he wanted to flee the Medium Place with his tentacles tucked between his...other tentacles (okay, that metaphor doesn't work).

Maybe he should've lied about it, like that time he told the humans "demon" was a racist term. Oh, it was so funny watching Chidi sweat over using that word in his presence. But then he might get in trouble for lying again, and they'd be even madder at him.

Now he half-wishes he'd lied. Jason hasn't shut up about it ever since.

"No," Michael says.

Jason huffs. "Okay, Michael, I know you don't wanna talk about it, and normally I'd respect that--"

"You would?" Michael says.

"--but I need a distraction. It's a long ass trip, and I can't stop thinking aobut what they're doing to Janet."

Michael sympathizes. He also dosen't want to think about Janet's current torture, and unlike poor naive Jason, he actually knows what the Bad Place is capable of. 

Michael pinches his nose, digging his glasses into his human skin. "Okay, okay, but nothing about my skin suit. Lemme think...oh, I know! Why was Eleanor so upset that I lied? I thought humans lie all the time--for good reasons, I mean. Like when the truth will hurt. So why did Eleanor...look at me like that?"

It's been weighing on him. 

"Look, man, I think it's like this. I told a lotta lies in my life. Like, 'No, Donkey Doug, I didn't frame her with those boagie boards. What's a boagie board?' Or, 'I swear, officer, I don't know how 200 prescription pads got on my dash.' But I always kept it real with Pillboi. He was my boy. You always keep it real with your boys and your girlfriend, and Eleanor's kind of like both to you."

Michael was stunned. He thought he'd been helping Eleanor, protecting her from the Bad Place's schemes and his own miserable shortcomings. It was still strange that he had to relinquish control over their afterlife, whether as a the puppetmaster demon or benevolent whatever he was. 

Finally, he says, "She's not my girlfriend, but thanks. I think I understand." 

"I don't know," Jason says. "The way you look at her is like how I feel whenever Janet bings into the room."

Michael's angry but he's not sure why. 

"No," he says flatly. "She's not."

"Whatever you say, dude," Jason says. He doesn't like the skeptical look on the human's face. Though he should be satisfied that Jason isn't scared of his scowl; it means he's not that demonic in his friend's eyes.

Michael decides to drop it. 

"It just hurts. That Eleanor didn't trust me," Michael admits.

"But she trusts you now, right?" Jason says. 

"I think so. She hugged me."

Before he left that morning, Eleanor met him in the hallway of Mindy's house. 

"Hey, demon buddy," she said, wrapping her arms around his back, pressing her tiny body against his. He let his chin rest atop her head, and savored her Eleanor scent, which for some reason smelled more like nachos than shrimp today. 

"Are we good?" she asked into his chest. He wanted to squeeze her tighter, but not in a torture-y way. He never wanted to let her go, even though he knew he had to. Why? It wasn't like that with the other humans, as much as he loved them. Something about Eleanor made him want to hold onto her forever.

"We're good," he said. 

"I'm gonna miss you," she said. "You saved my ash so many times running this place."

"Yeah, well. You saved mine."

He loved it when she smiled. 

"Homie, that's great!" Jason's voice crashes over the memory. "So don't bug out over it, alright?"

"Yeah," Michael says. So why does he still have this itchy, heavy feeling? It's like he's wearing one of Chidi's too small sweater vests--but maybe that's becasuse he always feels this way around Chidi, or specifically, Chidi with Eleanor. 

There's a fleeting moment of silence. Then Glenn gloops. Then Jason opens his mouth.

"Sooo, Mikey," he says. "Since I helped you, could you answer some questions for me? Like squid pro quo."

Micheal hides his face in his hands, unable to look Jason in his dopey, earnest face. He doesn't look up until his shoulders stop shaking.

"Fine. _One _question."

"Are the teeth on the tentacles or somewhere else?" Jason asks. "What kind of juice? Does it taste weird after you brush your teeth? Can you still wear your bowtie? Do all squids wear bowties, or just demons, cuz I never seen Squidward with a bowtie. Did you ever destroy a city like Godzilla? Can I ride on you back? How does a 6,000 foot fire ma jig fit in a people sized suit?"

Demons shouldn't get headaches, but boy does Michael have one now.

"I fit because demons aren't physical beings," Michael says once Jason pauses for a breath that he doesn't technically need. "We're essence. It's like pouring water out of a big glass into a small glass."

"Oh, dip, I get it," Jason says, though Michael isn't sure that's true. "Now what about--"

"No," Michael growls, "only one."

Surprisingly, Jason doesn't argue back.

"Hey, Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"You know we all still like you, right?"

"What?" Michael snaps his head up.

"We'd still like you even if you were something totally lame like a snow hamster. Actually, that sounds cute. Hey, are those even real?"

"Jason," Michael says.

"Right. Point is, no matter what you are, we still love you, man. Even Eleanor. So don't, like, hate yourself, okay?"

Michael's skin suit feels tight. He smiles.

"Oh, Jason," he says. He hears the hitch in his voice--something that would've shamed his former self. "Thank you."

"No problem, homes," Jason says.

For one blissfully short moment, Michael forgets where they're going, and simply enjoys the shared moment with his friend.

And Glenn. 


End file.
